


Precautions

by ThisShipSailsItself



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisShipSailsItself/pseuds/ThisShipSailsItself
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock's POV. Sherlock can file anything he deems important away in his mind castle. Johnlock: romance in my heart, but I kept it friendship on the page. Whichever you prefer, it only takes a little squinting to read it either way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Precautions

Precautions

Sherlock Holmes had taken precautions. He closed his eyes and listened.

_The door clicks closed. John is home from his impromptu jog._

_Johns voice, "Sherlock?" A long suffering sigh. "I know you can hear me…I'm making tea. You want some?"_

_Another sigh. The footsteps retreat. It takes exactly 10 steps for John to get from beside the couch to the kitchen. He counts each light thud._

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10._

_The steps are even. Sturdy. Assured. Limp still gone._

_John bustles about the kitchen. Water rushes as the kettle is filled. A barely audible clank as he sets it over the burner._

_Sherlock has heard these sounds a hundred times before. But there can be no gaps in this memory. Everything captured exactly as is._

_John fumbles through the cupboard. The distinct clink of two mugs being set aside. As always._

_The sugar jar is pulled forward. A spoon is rummaged for. Set on the counter._

_The refrigerator is opened. Milk taken out, no doubt. It closes again softly._

_The cupboard is opened briefly, then closed again. Just long enough to grab two tea bags from the box._

_Mrs. Hudsons' voice finds its way up the stairs, through the door. Mrs. Turner is over, which means the two landladies are spending a very pleasant evening together over tea, biscuits and gossip._

_Leftovers will be brought up later._

_The kettle whistles. His attention snaps back where it belongs._

_John pours the kettle into the tea bag-filled mugs._

_Silence as john lets it steep. Always so patie-No. Focus on the sounds._

_The clink of the spoon stirring the sugar and milk._

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10._

_John leans over him to place the tea within arm's reach._

_Sherlock inhales. Sweat from John's recent jog. Fabric softener from his hideous sweater. Tea. Not just the cuppa, John himself. He always smells just a little like tea._

_1…2…3…4._

_A faint rustle as John sits in his chair with his own tea._

_The crinkle of a newspaper being opened._

_A sigh of contentment manages to escape from Sherlock._

_He reaches over to grab his mug and…_

Empty air.

Sherlock opens his eyes. He is not with John. He is not in 221B. He is not even in England.

A horrible sadness fills him.

He is fallen. He is alone. He is 'dead.'

Nothing to keep him company but an audio-record of an evening with John, perfectly recorded of course, within his mind palace.

There are times when the emptiness threatens to overwhelm him. Danger nights, as Mycroft called them long ago.

On these nights, he indulges.

Sherlock Holmes had taken precautions. He had picked a wonderfully normal night. He had closed his eyes, and listened.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> This is probably one of my favourite stories I've written haha It just always really felt like it was something Sherlock would actually do to cope. I'm a pretty big fan of the ambiguous nature of John and Sherlock's relationship, so hopefully you enjoyed regardless of if you prefer platonic!Johnlock or Johnlock :)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to let me know what you think!


End file.
